Dating : Circadian Rhythms

Flash fiction piece on the theme of ‘from my future self’

It was a pale, arid day — the kind you only experience in January. The merriment of the festive season gone, the cold air parched & crying out for rain, snow, even hail. A reality check in the aftermath of obligatory joy. I turned a corner but found no solace in the change. I regretted it now, having no understanding at the time of the butterfly effect until one fateful autumnal day by the lake. Winter bites, mercilessly. Take heart, the seasons come & go as waves ebb & flow. You, joy will always follow.